Love in a Loveless Time
by FlamboyantLollipop
Summary: Alfred is the best agent in the FBI and CIA. He has been ordered to interrogate a captured Russian KGB agent. At first, he was excited. But then he felt the weird emotion called love. How will Ivan feel. When two people from enemy sides fall in love, will it work? Yaoi.
1. The Russian in the Cell

**Love in a Loveless Time**

**Hey everyone! Sorry I haven't been updating. There has been a thing called life getting in the way. This is my first fanfic with yaoi in it so please go easy. Disclaimer: I don't own hetalia Hidekaz Himaruya does. In this story, human names are used. Ivan Braginski is Russia and Alfred F. Jones is America. There is love in this story and yaoi, even though it won't seem like this in the beginning. Please, stick with me. Here we go.**

Alfred F. Jones was one of the greatest spies the FBI and the CIA had to offer. He could speak several different languages, including Russian, and his quick mind kept him on his feet during dangerous missions. The Cold War was his time to shine. He was recruited earlier in this war of no tanks and had already been briefed on the situation and he was proud to serve his country. Today was July 4th, 1963. Alfred was busy enjoying himself when he received a call of urgent importance. A Russian was displaying suspicious behavior, constantly buying guns and rifles from various stores across the nation. He was last seen in New York. Alfred left quickly.

Ivan Braginski cursed his luck. He was aware that he was being followed, he could feel it. The KGB taught him to look for signs of pursuit and he used his lessons well. The Russian meandered about, easily losing his pursuer. His black suit made it hot in the day, however he remained in it, to keep his "in America for business" cover. He sat down in an outdoor café and sipped from a coffee casually, his suitcase by his feet. A man dressed for summer came up and smiled.

"Do you mind if I use this chair? You're alone, right?"

Ivan only nodded.

"Hey thanks, man!" The man smiled and dragged the chair away, the metal legs grating against the decorative red brick.

Ivan watched this annoying behavior before turning back. _Wait. Why would he need a chair? He was alone so…why an extra chair?_ He was about to turn and check again before he felt the cold metal of a gun on the back of his head.

"Hands up. Anything suspicious and I shoot."

"Could you really do it?" Ivan almost whispered.

Alfred chuckled. "I've shot many spies before. Do not test me."

Ivan relaxed and went to sip his coffee. "I do not fear death, nor do I fear you. If you wish to shoot me dead, please. By all means do it." He turned and faced Alfred and reached up in a non-threatening manner. He moved the barrel until it was resting on his forehead. "Go on."

Alfred was confused. Never before has an enemy calmly behaved. His targets never smiled and moved towards the firearm. "You're not scared?"

"Why should I be? I've been told that death is very peaceful."

Alfred smirked. "Hands behind your back. I'm taking you into headquarters. Interrogation time."

Ivan was compliant, eyes cast straight ahead, wincing as the cuffs bit into the wrists, the polished metal being razor sharp. "Will there be pain?" He had heard stories of torture and execution. Ivan wondered what his fate would be. There was silence. "So will there be?"

"IF you don't behave."

Ivan let out a soft laugh. "I'll be sure to screw around as much as-ah!" He was cut off when pain blossomed in the center of his back. Then he felt the gun hit him where the shoulder and neck meets, the vulnerable part of his upper body. His knees buckled and Alfred caught him before they hit the ground.

"Behave yourself," he hissed like a snake. His hands were tangled in the ash colored hair of Ivan as he pulled his head back. Forcing the gun back into the Russian's back, the American started the walk to his limo. _As soon as he's in, we can begin interrogating. Let's see how compliant you are."_

"Where to Alfred?" The driver asked.

"To Washington DC," Alfred declared. "We've got a date."

The driver only nodded, seeing the gun and the FBI business going on.

Alfred blinded Ivan with a blindfold.

Ivan swallowed, feeling the gun pressed against his neck, serving as a cold reminder of where he was. KGB training had prepared him, but he never anticipated that a situation would arise.

"All right. Questions. What is your name?"

"Ivan Braginski. That is my name."

Alfred nodded. "Why are you in my country?"

"You're country?" Ivan smiled. "Is it a crime to see the Statue of Liberty while one is on a business trip?"

"Dude. The Statue of Liberty is technically in New Jersey. You were not even close!" Alfred snarled like a beast. "How much longer?"

The driver's gaze didn't leave the road. "About four more hours, sir."

"Dammit," Alfred turned back to Ivan whose head had not moved. "Well…looks like we have a while." There was an awkward silence. Alfred decided to break it. "Do you have any possible means to kill yourself?"

Ivan nodded. "I do. I could kill myself right now. I have a cyanide pill under-"

"Your tongue," Alfred finished. He took the gun and forced Ivan's mouth open. He reached in and retrieved the pill and threw it out the window. He didn't relent, still holding Ivan with the gun. "Anything else?"

Ivan carefully shook his head.

"Don't you dare bite your tongue," Alfred ordered.

"How will you stop me?"

"I could gag you."

Ivan smiled. "Do not worry. I will not. I am interested to see what will happen."

Alfred muttered "good," and sat back in his seat, looking his prisoner over. "Why are you wearing a white scarf?"

"It was a gift from my sister…and yes. I know it's July. I just like it so much." He was stroking himself as if it was a pet. "Will you take the blindfold off, now?"

"No. Why would I? It'll be removed when we reach the destination." He sat for some time before getting bored. He scooted closer and placed the gun under Ivan's chin. He enjoyed watching the Adam's apple bob as Ivan realized there was a gun there. Alfred liked seeing his prisoner's chest move up and down more quickly. Alfred tilted the chin up towards the ceiling, revealing Braginski's neck. He liked the sight of it, enjoyed his shape, imagining his fingers running up and down. _Damn._ He just realized he was starting to get hard. He turned and thought of a complicated math problem. He returned to normal and looked back at Ivan. The gun was still under the chin, head still painfully craned up.

"My neck will ache after this, Alfred," Ivan chocked out.

Alfred lowered the weapon and just rested it on the side of the neck.

Three hours later, Ivan still felt the gun against the neck, even though the metal was warm. "Alfred?"

"What?"

"Are we there yet?" His question was met with silence.

One hour later, Alfred and Ivan were parked outside headquarters. Alfred got out of the car and ran to the other side. He placed the gun back on Ivan's neck. "Get out."

Ivan did not move. "I will not."

"What?!" Alfred cried. "I have a gun against you. One pull of this trigger and I end you now get out."

"Take the gun off my neck and then I will move."

Doing what Ivan said seemed erroneous but, the blindfold was impairing the Russian's vision. "Fine."

Ivan felt the gun move down to the small of his back and he couldn't help but arch it a little when he stepped out of the car. He could hear the people murmuring but didn't mind. He was shoved in a direction and tripped over hard marble stairs, Alfred holding him all the way. Once inside, he was immediately taken down to the jail cells underneath the FBI headquarters. He was shackled to a chair and the blindfold was removed. He blinked, adjusting.

"So," Alfred spoke, "let's get started. Why were you in America? And I will remind you, I am adept in interrogation."

Ivan swallowed. "I was only seeing the sights."

"The Statue of Liberty?"

"Memory tells me the American Museum of Natural History…"

Alfred looked skeptical. "Now why would you need guns?"

Ivan's turn to look skeptical came.

Alfred backhanded the Russian. "Do not lie. We've been watching you and we have the credit card history!"

Ivan shook the pain away. "IF you know, why not kill me?"

Alfred did not want to emancipate Ivan from life's miseries. "We are in a Cold War, if you haven't noticed. A Russian in America? Buying guns? It draws attention."

Ivan noticed that Alfred was leaning close. "Fine. I'll tell you. Come closer."

Alfred obeyed, anticipating the answer.

The prisoner gathered up some spit and shot it into the American's eye.

"Argh!" Alfred reeled back. "You are despicable!" He hissed, storming back to Ivan and jerking his head back, fingers wrapping around Ivan's neck.

"Go ahead," Ivan hissed back with difficulty. With his hands handcuffed to the back of the chair, he felt even more vulnerable. His breath came out in ragged puffs. "I can take the pain."

Alfred knew the Russian would not talk with the force of physical pain, so he made the decision to exploit man's weakness. He removed the aggressive hold, only to turn to a more gentle approach. He slowly slid his pointer finger up Ivan's neck, just like he had imagined it in the car. He made sure to watch the Adam's apple bob when Ivan swallowed nervously.

Ivan didn't know what to do. He felt some sort of heat going to his groin. Alfred didn't help when he reached into Ivan's pants and touched something Ivan had never had touched before.

Alfred smiled when he watched those violet eyes close softly as Ivan concentrated on not letting his body rule his mind. The breathing became more erratic. This spurred Alfred on, continuing to stroke Ivan.

At this point, the Russian was sweating and let one moan slip out.

"Yeah," Alfred whispered in a silky smooth voice, "it feels good, doesn't it?"

Ivan shook his head. "It does not. I don't want…this…igh." He found it difficult to talk so turned his attention to restraining himself.

"Oh, but your bodies is controversial to your mind," Alfred noted, looking at Ivan's member, inspecting it. It went from limp to hard pretty quickly. "I'll let you come if you tell me why you were in my country." He squeezed the flesh, denying anything that may try to pass to pass.

The KGB had never trained their agents for this. Ivan had heard of this kind of torture and just how affective it was. He refused to divulge anything pertaining to his mission.

"Tell me."

"Nyet…n-yet!" Ivan felt his climax come but nothing happened. Alfred wasn't kidding. This went on two more times, at which point the agent was sweating, panting and red with embarrassment. "P-please…"

"Tell me!" Alfred was mired. He wanted to watch Ivan finish but then again, he needed information. He was slipshod in his manner of retrieving information.

Ivan's hand were clenched as he was trying to make the obtrusive thing between his legs. _Think. Think! What's 206 *345? What is it?_ The distraction was not helping. His breathing was hot and sounded needy. "Pl-please…," he whispered, "please…"

Alfred let go and stepped back. "Come."

Ivan climaxed and yelled something in Russian. He was left yelling and panting in the aftermath.

Alfred enjoyed this very much. "We'll clean your clothes," he hissed, removing them and leaving his prisoner naked. "I'll be back."

Ivan sat languid in his chair, breathing deeply, feeling dirty and ashamed.

Alfred, on the other hand, felt quite accomplished. He had rendered a Russian KGB agent helpless and undone. The brevity of the session disappointed him. Coming to the Oval Office, he prepared to comport himself like a gentleman. "Mr. President?"

"Come in," a demure voice ordered.

Alfred entered. "Good afternoon, Sir. How are y-"

"Be concise, Alfred. There's much to do. How's the Russian?"

"He is good. Not talking, but good."

The phone rang and the voice was garbled to Alfred. "Anyway, I believe that to forestall an all out war, it is necessary to show the Soviet Union what we can do." He paced. "They have been blind to our power. We can enlightened them. We can make an example of that Russian. We'll find out what they are planning first."

The president nodded. "Proceed. You have my permission to do what is necessary."

Alfred exited the office. The proponent retrieved Ivan's clothes before returning to the cells. He smiled when Ivan recoiled from him when he slammed the door. He released Ivan and gave him he suit.

Ivan shook his head. "Those are just for disguise. I assume you have my suitcase. The one you took when you captured me?"

"Yes."

"My real clothes have been stored in there. Please. Get them."

Alfred felt angry. He just spent thirty dollars getting that suit cleaned. "Fine." He got the suitcase and got out a pair of dark green pants, combat boots and a tan Russian coat. "Here."

The prisoner slipped into them and put his scarf back on. He quavered in delight. "I love this outfit so much!" He sat back down and put his hands by the cuffs. "Do not waste your time standing. Cuff me or I might just run."

America bolted and smacked Ivan with the gun before cuffing him.

"I was not actually planning to do it," Ivan mumbled.

"Let's talk," Alfred spoke, pulling up a chair. "Why do you need them? The guns. Why? Is there a shortage in Russia? Is it something that's in the guns?" The questions were not answered. Alfred got up and punched Ivan relentlessly. Once he was finished, he lifted Ivan's head gently up toward him. "Come now. I don't want to hurt you anymore."

"Why would you care? You are a Capitalist pig."

The insult was ignored, though America did snort in contempt. He back handed the man, a prelude to worse things to come. "I am not afraid to hurt you."

"What perverse things will you do to me?"

"I developed this," Alfred whispered, holding up a simple looking rod that branched into two metal prongs. He pressed the button and electric energy could be heard surging through.

This made Ivan nervous. How many volts was stored? If he could hear it, it must be a lot.

"Now," Alfred grinned, bringing the prongs to rest it on the side of Ivan's neck, "let's begin."

**So this was my first yaoi fic. I hope you enjoyed it. May continue depending on the reviews. Please don't flame. If you do, I'll watch the flame and say…well…it's pretty. F*ck that. Anyway, this is FlamboyantLollipop signing off. Until next time.**


	2. Branded

Branded

**This is FlamboyantLollipop bringing you the second chapter of Love in a Loveless Time. I hope you enjoy this. There's only light lemon in this story. I don't not like Russia. It's just that I enjoy the pairing AmeRus and I am sadistic. Connect the dots. I love Russia and America and don't mean any offense to the Russians. Enough of that. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

Ivan lay in his cell, his thoughts going to his sisters. "I hope you two are safe…" He got up slowly, going over the bars of his cell just in time for Alfred to arrive. "Good morning," he said.

Alfred grunted in response and entered the cell, dragging in a chair. "Sit down."

"Do I not get breakfast?"

"Sit!"

Ivan was silent when he obeyed, sitting down on the side of the bed.

Alfred pulled up his chair and sat down as well. "Let's talk. You have sisters, correct?"

Ivan frowned. "Where is this going, Alfred. Why are you so interested?"

"Well…It's merely incentive" Alfred was only getting a scowl in response. "It would seem that you do."

Ivan growled. "I do not."

"You're lying."

Ivan fell silent. "I…I do not care much for them."

Alfred tilted his head. "I was listening to you before I came into view. My ears told me another story."

Silence.

"So we're going to ask you the same question. Why the guns?"

Ivan smiled. "Don't Americans and tourists have a right to buy guns?"

"Not if they're Russian and we're in the middle of the Cold War." Alfred adjusted himself. "We noticed a pattern. You were only buying large guns manufactured in Russia. Some were even illegal in your country. Is it something related to what's in the weapons?" He waited for an answer.

Ivan didn't respond. He just sat there with a thoughtful look.

"Are you going to answer the question or not?" Alfred asked.

"You remind me of a sunflower," Ivan finally spoke. "You have the color of the petals in your hair."

Alfred blushed. "That…that didn't answer my question."

"But it's true."

Alfred regained control and slapped Ivan across the face. "You will dispense with the pleasantries, Ivan. I can still put you through a world of pain." He sat down again. "Our government thinks that there is Uranium in the guns and that's why you want them." He bit his nails. "We're trying to locate them. This bring us back to our next question. Where are they?"

Ivan sighed. "They're in the hotel I was staying at."

"Incorrect. We've searched the hotel. Nothing."

Ivan cursed silently under his breath. "I can't tell you that bit of information but I can tell you that I hid them well."

Alfred looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"It's not safe or legal to bring guns out of this country. I've made it so that they will be safely stored until we have use of them."

Realization hit Alfred. "So you're saying-"

Ivan smiled. "That those guns are still in America? Yes." There was a pause. "You didn't seem to react well to being complimented. You did, however, blush. That was really cute."

Alfred blushed again. Never before had he been admired by another man. He knew he was gay but, he never expected feelings from the enemy. He had to hide these confusing feelings. He brought a gun up to Ivan's temple. "Why don't we skip to the problem at hand?"

His eyes grew dark. "Either tell me where they are or I'll make you."

Ivan shivered in delight. "That should be fun." He let his smile fall. "Do you remember the last time you tried to make me talk? I did not talk. I did not crack."

Alfred's face was now a sly smile. "However, you can't tell me you enjoyed it."

Ivan didn't reply well. "I…I…"

"Gotcha," Alfred laughed.

"I was only reacting naturally," he insisted. "It wasn't effective."

"Well then, why don't I try harder?" Alfred reached out to touch Ivan.

The prisoner scooted back. "Stop." He quickly got up off the bed and walked to the other side of the room.

Alfred's eyes followed the movement. "Come now," he chirped. "It shouldn't be that bad. It'll be different than last time." He got up and slowly stated advancing.

Ivan found him pushed up against the wall. "Don't touch me!" He yelled, moving away again.

Alfred stopped and put his hands on his hips. "Do I need to tie you up?"

Ivan didn't respond.

Alfred rolled her eyes and took a step forward.

Ivan took a shaky step back.

"Well. Looks like I have to." Alfred moved suddenly and pistol whipped Ivan twice, knocking the Russian out.

When Ivan came to, he looked up to see his hands chained above him, the chain tied to a bar attached to the ceiling. With his arms held above his head, he felt extremely vulnerable.

"You know," Alfred mused. "It's more difficult to do you while standing but I guess it'll have to do." He started to touch Ivan's member through the pants.

Ivan gasped and squeezed his eyes. After some time, he opened them. He was aware of his face blushing. "You have other forms of interrogation, c-correct?"

Alfred continued touching. "Yes."

"T-t-then use them. This is pointless."

Alfred stopped, a look of disappointment on his face. "Fine. Maybe I will." He left the room yet didn't close the door.

Ivan didn't know why the door was left open.

Alfred came back, pushing a gas stove in. He lit it and then took a metal prod and put the point in the flame. He left and returned with a box of fishing hooks and a cat-o-nine tails. The American sat down and started tying the hooks on. "I was looking forward to my usual method but if you don't want that…"

Ivan watched and swallowed. He looked nervous. _You can endure this, Ivan. You'll be fine._ His thoughts were interrupted when his wrists were lowered.

"Take off your coat."

The order made Ivan seat a bit. This confirmed his suspicion that he was going to be tortured.

Alfred didn't take the lack of action slightly. "Do as I say!" He snapped the whip above his prisoner's head.

Ivan jerked back. "All right, all right. No need to get angry." He removed his scarf and coat. There was a thin white shirt underneath. He removed that too, revealing a smooth toned upper body with pale skin.

Alfred watched with interest. He loved what he saw. The Russian's body was toned, not too ripped yet not too flabby. Wait, he was the enemy, the person he was supposed to hate.

Ivan held out his wrists and let Alfred chain them again. He was calm on the outside but on the inside, he was trying to compose himself. When his arms were chained again, he felt even more vulnerable.

Alfred started taking his jacket and shirt off. He didn't want to get blood on his bomber jacket.

Ivan stared. His captor was…very handsome with his shirt off. He was interrupted when he felt immense pain and heard a loud crack. "Ah!" He couldn't help himself. He was caught off guard. Alfred had just whipped Ivan across the chest.

"So the same question still stands," Alfred said, circling the prisoner. "I would like an answer."

Ivan silently took the pain. He would not reveal anything to agent.

Alfred stepped back and struck Ivan again. "Answer me."

"…Don't you think this is a bit…archaic?"

"Archaic methods are usually the most effective." Alfred whipped Ivan again.

The prisoner tried to cover himself but the chains prevented him. The hooks dug into his skin, ripping it away when the whip left.

Alfred pushed his hand against Ivan's stomach. "You have a nice body." He went to the stove and let the whip drop to the ground. "You know, Ivan. I don't want to have to defile it. So smooth and pale." He took the metal out of the flames. It was white hot by now, the heat waves rolling off, distorting the air around it.

Ivan straightened when he saw it. He felt his hear quicken and he tried to step back but the chains stopped him. If there was one thing Ivan hated, it was fire and hot metal. Back at training, the people in charge only touched Ivan with a red hot poker and quickly. The pain was immediate and so intense. The area was sore for a week. Seeing the white hot metal distilled a fear in him. "Alfred?"

The captor kept coming.

"Alfred, please."

"What?" Alfred had yet to know what was going on. He saw Ivan looking fearfully at the prod. "Ahh. I see. Well then, I'll make sure to make it last."

Ivan let out a shaky breath. "No…please."

"Where are the guns?"

Ivan cursed. "You…you can whip me bloody just…don't use that on me."

"If you tell me where they are, you'll be spared the metal and the whip."

Ivan was desperate. "I cannot! Please, not this. Do what you will with me but no burning."

Alfred shook his head. "Sorry." He pressed the point into the skin on the lower left side of Ivan's belly. It didn't move. "Now don't squirm. If you do, I'll have to start over.

"P-please."

Alfred dragged the point down, starting his writing.

Ivan grit his teeth and clenched his eyes. A groan slipped between his teeth. Once the prod was removed, he breathed again in painful gasps. He opened his eyes again to see Alfred reheating the weapon. "W-wait…please, wait."

Alfred set it down and walked back over. He ran his finger on his handiwork, a medium sized A now scarring. "Shhh. It's almost over."

Ivan was still shaking. "Why don't you kill me?"

"We still need you for information," Alfred explained, going back to the prod. He pressed it into Ivan's skin and started carving an F.

Ivan cried out again, this time escalating into a scream.

Alfred withdrew once he done. "Oh. I almost forgot." He got a syringe out from his pocket and uncapped it.

"What is that?"

Alfred enjoyed the tired yet nervous voice. "Pain desensitizer. I don't want you to pass out."

Ivan felt the needle go into his neck, directly into the blood stream. He felt the pain dull only slightly. The drug must've been working.

Alfred let his finger run on his finished product. His eyes never left the letters. "I'm surprised you didn't crack. I'll leave you alone for now." He met Ivan's violet eyes. "I admire your strength. Not many have remained that stubborn through the branding."

Ivan let out a shaky reply. "T-thank you. I…I don't know how to compliment you right now."

Alfred let out a little laugh. "It's fine. Now I'll let you down." He unchained the Russian and helped him to the bed. "I'll be back to clean you up. Wouldn't want to lose you to infection."

Ivan watched him go. "He's strong…" _I…I like watching him try to figure out my case…why am I thinking like this?_

Alfred spun slowly in his wheely chair. His thoughts were on Ivan. _He's cute. I have to admit he's cute…I'm only supposed to get information from him._ He got up abruptly. "Dammit. I hate conflicts." He walked down to the cell where Ivan was being held. The prisoner was sleeping. "You may be cute, Ivan," he whispered, "but I will break you. You'll crack soon enough. And I will not care at all when they…kill you." He said this, but something in his mind said otherwise.

**So there it is. I'm not too good with writing romance. There will be more romance in the next chapter and not as much torture. Alfred will see some of the softer side in Ivan and vice versa. Thank you for bearing with me. I hope you enjoyed it. Review if you can, please. This is FlamboyantLollipop signing off. Until next time.**


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